[TRAVELS] The Anti-Q [Part 3]

We should have walked, but we elected to wait for that utterly pointless electric railway to Port Discovery. By the time we got there and walked a bit more to Central America, it was about a quarter to noon. I knew there would be beer at this part of Disney Sea, but I retained focus and ran for the Indiana Jones fastpasses instead.

We wouldn't be able to use the Indiana Jones fastpasses until 90-120 minutes later or so, so we decided to check out one of them shows. Mystic Rhythms, I believe. We lined up about 25 minutes before the 12:15 curtain, something we would never do if not for the fact that the rest of the Disney fandom seemed to be doing the same, and then the strangest thing happened.

While Kayo was looking at her map, a little being that we the people of Hawaii refer to as a menehune suddenly apparitioned itself right behind us. For those among us who aren't culturally savvy on the old legends of Hawaii, Mr. Menehune is best described as resembling an 84-year-old midget Inca (scratch that, I haven't done any research on average Inca stature during the relevant period).

Mr. Menehune started going off on Mystic Rhythms, saying that it usually clocked in at between 20 and 21 minutes in length, but on one rare occasion it came in at 22, and that he was wont to watch it twice in a day followed by a beer and pork-and-beans at the Yucatan watchamacallit, and that the best seat for first timers was right side, ten rows from the stage, but that because he wanted to touch the butterfly (?), he was going to angle for a left bank aisle seat. He went on and on. This dude was fascinating.

So we asked Mr. Menehune, "It's obvious you come here a lot -- how often?"

Mr. Menehune told us that he has made over 3,000 trips to either Tokyo Disneyland or Disney Sea. We quickly found out that the whole cast knows this guy. They are almost certainly magnetized by his affection for beer, which is the noblest trait of humankind.

This guy is awesome. We tried to get a picture with him after the show, but thought better of it in honor of his privacy, and then he disappeared into the wind.

And finally it was time to honor the menehune with a beer. Or two. And a glass of wine. Which is precisely what I did at that ridiculous excuse for a Mexican joint next door.